Anger Management
by Mikell
Summary: A certain Author is in a MOOD. Can Raphael and his brothers intervene before her anger spills over into her fics? Rated for minor language. A/N I've decided to leave this one up. No real reason, I just like how it ended. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1 Explosion

**A/N: Ok well this is another one of those meant-to-be-a-oneshot Author-meets-characters fic that's going into chapters. I will strive to keep it very short, tho. And I will work to find the humor in this whole mixed up mess so I can turn this into a funny fic worth reading. Right now... it's just therapy. Raph wasn't who I expected to show up, but he may just save this from being an angst-ridden sob-fest, so hooray.**

**In case you care, yes, I really did have a fight with my husband. And yes, if it were possible, I might very likely be willing to send Raph after him right now.**

**Good thing for him, I have to include this disclaimer: I own no turtles, mutant, ninja or otherwise, and this is a fan-generated work of fiction for no profit whatsoever unless you count what it's saving me in therapy bills.**

**Many thanks, as always, to the actual owners for allowing us to play on their playground.**

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_**Anger Management**_

_**-Chapter 1-**_

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_Thud._

"What da shell?"

_Thud._

"Mikell?"

_Thud._

"Hey! Dat one almost got me! Hey! Hey, Aut'or!"

"_What,_ Raphael?"

The author threw another shuriken. _Thud_. It hit the door.

"Who gave ya those? They ain't toys, ya know?"

"They're Leo's."

"Yer gonna cut yerself."

_Thud._

"I don't care."

The red-banded turtle crossed the room in two steps, catching the author's wrist before she could flick the next star-shaped blade at the dartboard hanging on the back of her bedroom door. She shot him a look that would have intimidated anyone but Raphael.

"Leave me _alone,_" she growled, jerking in his grasp. He wouldn't let her go.

"Ya want me ta take care o' dis fer ya?" he asked softly.

"I don't need you to solve my problems for me, Raphael," she snapped.

"I t'ought ya loved 'im."

"I _do." _Tears burned down her cheeks. She didn't bother to blink them away, just kept glaring into his golden eyes.

"I don't like seein' ya like dis."

"So go _away._" She jerked again, and this time a trickle of red spilled down the side of her hand, tracing down her wrist.

"Now ya done it. I tol' ya they're sharp," he scolded, plucking the throwing star from her hand. "Let me see dat."

"Leave me _alone,_" snapped the author, yanking her hand free at last.

"Don't be such a baby," he growled, grabbing her wrist. With incredible gentleness, he peeled her fingers back, revealing a small but deep cut.

"Yer gonna hafta let Donny look at dis," he said.

"It's fine," she answered, trying to pull her hand away. Raph shot her a look.

"What's da matter wit' you? Dis ain't like you, Author."

"I'm _not_ in the mood, Raph. Let _go._"

"Not 'til ya tell me what's wrong."

"Why do you care?"

"Yer still writin' my brother inta a fic, aren't ya? Leo's a pain, but I don't want ya… ya know, writin' him fallin' off a cliff 'r somet'in."

"I'm not going to take it out on Leo."

"Oh, no?" His eyes narrowed behind the red mask.

"No."

"Ya know ya see Leo in 'im," said Raphael softly.

She jerked her hand out of his grasp and was off the bed, heading out of the room, before Raphael could react. He didn't catch up with her until she was walking under the trees. The neighbors were annoyingly outside, forcing Raphael to take a more elaborate route into the woods behind the author's house to avoid being spotted.

He smirked slightly, recognizing a tree he'd recently attached his annoying youngest brother to.

_Dat was some weekend,_ thought Raph. _Too bad dat glitter finally wore off Mike's shell._

He heard the woman's footsteps rustling in the leaf litter and hurried to catch up, moving as silently as he could. Even a ninja can't walk in dry leaves with absolute silence. Mary Mikell's head snapped around at his approach. Her usually welcoming smile was markedly absent in the look she gave him.

"Raphael, I don't want to talk about it," she said.

"I know."

"So why are you following me?"

"I jus'… like da woods, ya know? It's… nice out here."

She snorted softly but no longer objected to his presence. After a while, she spoke again.

"Why didn't the others come?"

Raph shrugged. "Mikey an' Austin… did ya really wanna see dem two love birds right now? And Donny… He's pretty wrapped up with Bev. I t'ink Leo's a little scared o' ya." He barely contained his smirk.

"'Fearless' is scared?" Mikell laughed, but the sound was as dry as the leaves under their feet.

"_I'm_ a little scared o' you right now," said Raph, letting his smirk show this time.

Mary snorted and stalked away from him again.

"Dis ain't like you," he called.

She whirled, anger flashing in her eyes. "You don't _know_ me, _Raphael,_" she snapped. She stalked closer. "You don't _know_ how I am when I'm…" She trailed off, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Just leave me _alone._"

"Author," he said, approaching cautiously as if the seething woman were a wild animal. "I know ya. I know ya make good pancakes."

She started to laugh. "You _baka_."

"Now," he scolded. "Where'd ya learn ta talk like dat?"

"From Ramica," said Mary, unrepentant.

"I'll hafta have a talk wit' dat girl," said Raphael.

Mary turned away, hugging her middle. "You'll have to do it on your own, Raph. I'm really not in the mood to write any fic right now."

_T'ank shell fer dat,_ thought Raphael fervently. Anything that came from the woman's pen at the moment was unlikely to end pleasantly for him and his brothers. Or any male of any species for that matter.

"Ya gotta forgive 'im," said Raph softly, coming closer, but not quite touching the angry woman. "Ya know ya do. If ya love 'im. An' if ya wanna work dis out."

Mary said something very rude. Raphael's mouth fell open in shock. He whistled. "I didn't even know ya _knew_ dat word," he said.

She had the grace to blush. "Yeah, well, I _do,_" she snapped. "Now, go away."

"No."

"I said, go _away."_

"I ain't leavin'."

"Go away!" She shouted. She was standing, facing him, her fists clenched at her sides, her eyes blazing, even as tears streaked down her cheeks.

"No!" he yelled right back.

"Why?" Her voice grew to a wail. "Why can't everyone just go the… just go away and _leave me alone?_"

"Because," he snapped.

"Because _why?_"

"Because… ya got friends, Mikell. Friends dat _care_ about ya. Yer Ma, _she_ cares about ya. Why da ya t'ink she offered…"

"SHUT UP!" The furious woman turned on her heel and stalked off.

_Aw, shell, now I done it. _

Raph watched her go a few paces away. _Leo, yer better at dis kinda stuff._ _Well, I ain't gonna chase her._

The woman disappeared into the trees. Raphael considered for a long moment. With a heavy sigh, he turned back to the house. There was someone he needed to talk to, the one person who could fix this.

Mary's husband, Ken.

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	2. Chapter 2 Intervention

**A/N: Yeah... epic fight is... epic.**

Leo rocks tho. And hanging with Turtles is great therapy.  
Next chap will be funnier, promise. Ken's not a TMNT fan, more of a TMNT widower, (hey, if I can be a foot ball widow, he can be a fan-fic widower, right?) so him meeting Raph should be good for some laughs.

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_Chapter 2 -Intervention-  
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Leonardo heard the muffled sob before he spotted the author. She was curled up on the couch, turned away from him, leaning her face into the back of the cushions. Swallowing hard, the blue-banded turtle scanned the room. Her family seemed absent, so he had no further excuse to avoid this. Slowly, cautiously, he crossed the room.

"Mikell?"

The woman jumped, spinning to face him. "Don't _do_ that, Leonardo!" she shouted, scowling. "You scared me half to death."

"Sorry," said Leo, taking a step back. When she didn't get up or yell at him again, he relaxed slightly and moved to perch on the end of the sofa, near her feet. She pulled them up to give him a little room, a gesture which he took as an encouraging sign. He tried a tentative smile.

"How are you doing?"

She didn't answer, only shot him a glare.

Leonardo was used to death-stares from Raphael. He met her eyes steadily. Finally she blinked and looked away.

"What do you want?" she muttered.

He looked at her, considering. "That was some chapter you wrote last night," he said lightly.

"Which one?"

"Umm… the one where I came face to face with a spiritual being that nearly scared the shell off my back," he replied with a smile.

"At least I didn't give you a burning bush," she shot back.

"No, just a hurricane." He chuckled.

"You want me to scrap the chapter?" The author looked up, watching him.

Leo drew a deep breath. "Depends," he said. "Will I turn into some scripture-spouting pacifist religious nut? Start wearing robes and carrying "Repent" signs? Stick a "Jesus loves you" bumper sticker to my shell?"

Mary laughed. "Oh, yeah, I can just see that. Maybe before you take out a PD you can lecture him on his eternal destiny…"

Leo smiled. It was good to hear her laugh.

"Somehow I don't think that would be very in character," he said dryly. The comment only made her laugh harder until fresh tears were streaking down her cheeks.

"What's wrong, Leo? You don't want to go to seminary?" she asked, teasing.

"Umm…" Leonardo looked at her, confused. "What the shell is seminary?"

"Oh…" She could hardly catch her breath. "It's the school you go to, if you want to be a preacher."

A shudder ran through him. "I can just see that," he said dryly. "Can you imagine me wearing one of those little white collars?"

"Stop it," she gasped, holding her side. "You're killing me."

"Seriously," he said, reaching out to catch her hand. "I… don't feel that different."

Mary's laughter quieted and she gave him a shaky smile. "Leonardo, you're _not_. You were always in tune with God on some level. I believe we _all_ are. Some more than others maybe, but the Bible says the law is written on our hearts."

"I guess that makes sense. You mean everyone has a sense of right and wrong, don't you?"

"Yeah, basically." Mary sniffed, looking away, but not before Leo saw tears standing in her eyes again. "Too bad some of us are thicker about it than others."

"Mikell…" Leo reached out tentatively and touched her leg. She jumped, but didn't pull away. "You know he loves you."

"Leo, I really don't want to talk about this right now," she said without looking at him. The turtle started to answer, but a flash of color caught his eye.

"What the _shell_ did you do to your hand?" he demanded, frowning.

"Nothing," she snapped.

"Mikell…"

Her expression hardened. "It's _fine_, Leonardo. _I'm _fine."

"Are you?"

She would've gotten off the couch and taken off again, but Leonardo caught her around the waist before she could bolt. She struck out blindly, catching him in the plastron, but pulled back with a gasp, cradling her wrist in her hand.

"That wasn't very smart," he said quietly.

"No kidding, genius, thanks for the news-flash," she snapped, but she let him set her back down on the couch.

"You going to let me see that now?"

"No," she said stubbornly, reminding him of Michelangelo.

He sighed, sitting down next to her on the couch; and waited.

"Why are men so stupid?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm a turtle, remember?" said Leo, smirking. That earned him another glare.

"_Baka_."

Leonardo chuckled. "Raph told me you've been expanding your vocabulary."

"Not my skill set, though. I cut my hand on your stupid hira-shuriken."

"I _told_ you those were sharp," he scolded gently. "Now let me have a look."

Reluctantly, she held out her hand.

"I thought this was Donny's job," she said.

"I'm always cutting myself cleaning my katana," said Leo. "I can handle a minor cut without pestering Don."

"It doesn't feel minor," she grumbled, hissing through her teeth when he probed the wound with a finger.

"Nice one," he commented. "It doesn't need stitches, but you'd better clean it up and bandage it at least."

"Oh, all right, _Mom_," she answered. She got up and left the room. Leonardo prudently allowed her to handle taking care of herself. When the author returned, she was carrying two steaming mugs and her hand sported a fresh white bandage.

"Tea?" She held out a cup to Leonardo.

"Thanks." He took a sip and made a face.

"It's Red Rose," she said, smirking. "Sorry. I like the little glass animals that come in the box."

"It's not bad," he said, taking another tentative sip. "Just not what I'm used to."

"Yeah well, I'm not Splinter. My tea comes in bags." she perched on the couch and glanced out the window. They sat for a while in companionable silence.

"So, do you want me to teach you to throw them properly so you don't cut yourself again?" asked Leonardo.

"That was Raphael's fault," she grumbled. "He was trying to take it away from me."

Leonardo snorted. "He never did like to see kids playing with sharp objects," he said with a grin. Mary tossed a pillow at him.

"I'm ten years older than you," she protested.

"Really? Could've fooled me," he shot back.

"Keep it up, smart guy," said the author. "I haven't written you into Sierra's bedroom just yet. It doesn't _have_ to be a romance."

"Oh, now that's just cruel," said Leo. "Am I destined to be alone for the rest of my life?"

"I suppose not." Mary gave the blue-banded turtle a smile. "I want you guys to be happy. At least…" Her expression wavered. "I wanted to give you what I have with Ken…" The tears tumbled down and she ducked her head as if to hide them.

"You _do_ have something special with him," said Leonardo softly. "You know you do."

"I thought I did," she said softly. "I thought… I thought we were ok."

"You will be."

"I… I don't know." The woman sniffed.

"Mary. You will be," said Leo. "I might not know a lot about love…"

"No kidding. You're a real pain, you know that? I mean, really, Leo? How long are you going to take to admit you have feelings for her?"

"I… well, I mean…" Leonardo blushed. This conversation was not going at all the way he had planned.

"I might not even be able to start posting your story when Donatello Lost is finished," snapped the author. "Just because you have been such a stubborn _shell-head_."

"Well, you put me through some pretty huge stuff," answered Leo. "I mean, come on! Everything I thought I knew about myself was shattered. Do you know how hard this has been for me? How can I think about love?"

"How can you _not?_ I spent months thinking about these girls, Leo. I wanted her to be _perfect_ for you. I wanted her to make you happy…" The author trailed off, her breath hitching.

"You want to make _him_ happy, don't you?" he asked softly.

Mary's eyes met his for a moment before she turned away, setting her feet on the floor and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

"Go away," she whispered. "Just go away. Leave me alone."

Slowly, Leonardo set his cup down and stood up.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. She just shook her head. Feeling more helpless than he had in a long time, Leonardo left.

_Oh man... It's bad, isn't it. But it will be ok. It's _got_ to be ok. She believes in happy endings. Doesn't she?_


	3. Chapter 3 Confrontation

**A/N: Ok, well, maybe this isn't _quite_ as dramatic as I first envisioned. But... He _is_ taking me out to dinner Friday night, after all. Still... it was funny to write his reaction to Raph. **

**Meh, I'll do one or two more chaps, just to wrap it up. Thanks again for the support. We're not ok... but we will be.  
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_Chapter 3 -Confrontation-  
~~~_

It didn't take long for Raphael to track Ken down. The huge red truck was pretty hard to miss, parked in the driveway of the fire station. Raph stepped off his motorcycle, leaving his helmet on and tucking his gloved hands into his pockets. With his leather gear on, and the helmet covering his face, he was pretty sure the man wouldn't realize he was talking to a giant, bi-pedal turtle. Raph smirked.

_Heck, we've been guests in the guy's house. Guess it's time I introduced m'self._ He sauntered over to the truck, his eyes widening as he saw the door open and a pair of size-14 work boots hanging out. His step quickened for an instant, worry for the man spiking in his chest, before he saw that Ken was twisted around, his arms buried under the dashboard. He heard him grunt and a quiet curse.

Raph cleared his throat. The man twitched, but didn't come out from under the dashboard.

"Umm Hi there," said Raph after a moment.

"How ya doin'?" came the friendly response. "Sorry, I'll be out of here in just a minute."

"Take yer time," Raph answered, coming closer cautiously. He saw the wiring harness hanging down from under the dashboard. "Ya wirin' up da light bar?"

"Yeah. Damn thing, a wire came loose." The man maneuvered his way out from under the dashboard and sat up on the truck's seat, easing his way to the ground. He wiped his hands on a greasy red rag.

Raph stepped back. The guy had a good foot on him and he was bulky. Not fat, but his wide shoulders and thick biceps spoke of some serious time put in with weights.

_He played football,_ Raph remembered. _Mikell told us. Played ball in school. An' he's lost weight. A lot of it by the look o' him. Still, he's a big guy. Better play it cool. She'll have my shell if I get in a fight wit' 'im._

"So what can I do for you?" asked Ken, eyeing the leather-clad turtle. Raph caught a flash of shrewd intelligence in the hazel eyes regarding him. The guy wasn't tense, but by the way he held himself, Raph read suspicion and a readiness to react.

"I was… uh, drivin' by, an' saw da… sign fer da pancake breakfast," said Raphael, thinking fast.

The man nodded. "It's next weekend," he said amiably. "Free will offering, great food, it's a nice time to bring the family. You know, let the kids see the fire trucks, that sort of thing."

"Uh, yeah. Sounds great," said Raph. "Mik… I mean, Mary, she told me about it."

"Oh?" Ken's eyebrows rose.

"Yeah. I wanted ta meet ya, an' she said ya might be down here. We… uh, we go way back. We kinda grew up together. Name's Raphael."

"Nice to meet ya," said Ken.

Raph took a gloved hand out of his pocket and held it out for the man to shake. He saw the man's eyebrows rise slightly at the sight of his three-fingered hand, but the glove hid his skin tone, and Ken didn't comment.

"So, Mary tells me you guys've been married a long time, huh?"

"Fifteen years next summer," said Ken easily, but his smile was wan.

"Wow. Long time ta keep da flame alive, huh?" Raph nodded in sympathy.

"Yeah, well, two kids, you know…" The man shook his head. "Kind of puts a damper on things after a while. Hey, is that a Honda?"

Raph followed the man's gaze to his bike, and he smiled. "Yep. A 950, actually. Me an' my brother, we did some pretty heavy mods. New pipes, souped up the carb…"

Ken wandered toward the bike, walking around it. He bent to examine a small assortment of tubes attached to the engine.

"My bro came up wit' dat," said Raph with a proud smile. "Boosts da top-end speed by almost 15mph."

The man's eyebrows rose and he whistled softly.

"Aftermarket?"

"You might say dat," said Raph, smirking. _Parts from da dump are about as after-market as ya can git._

They talked about carburetors and spark plugs for a solid half-hour. Ken knew as much about engines as Raph, but not quite as much as Donatello. Raphael began to relax, talking to the man. It was a rare experience to be able to talk to someone so casually who understood how the airflow through an engine effected fuel efficiency.

Leaning in to point out a modification Donny'd made to the muffler, Raph's helmet banged against the chrome tubing. With an irritated growl, he pulled it up and off, setting it on the seat.

"So, you ran the secondary through here…" Ken was pointing, leaning close to the machine to examine the engine more closely.

"Yeah, an' den he re-routed da fuel line so it wouldn't over heat…"

The man glanced at Raphael and froze. Raph met his hazel eyes. Ice streamed through his veins. _Oh shell._

"Umm Yeah, so he… umm…" Raph stammered, grasping at his train of thought, but Ken was doing a pretty fair imitation of a fish out of water. Raph let out a heavy sigh and rocked back on his heels.

"It's ok," he said. "Yer not nuts. I'm really a turtle."

The guy stood up, backing away, still gaping.

"Watch yerself, don't trip," said Raph amiably, staying in a kneeling position. His leg-muscles tensed slightly, ready to propel him to his feet should the guy decide to attack. You never knew how people were going to react, meeting a mutant for the first time.

Ken stopped. His mouth opened and closed. His eyes stayed glued on the turtle, but he seemed to slowly be regaining his sense of reality.

"Look. I really _am_ a friend o' yer wife's," said Raphael quietly. "I know yer kids. Jessi's a great girl. Arek's a little hyper, but he seems like a nice kid. Him an' m' brother Mikey really hit it off."

"You're… you're one of those… those turtles… the ones she writes about." Ken shook his head as if to clear it. "But you can't be. You're… a cartoon… Is this some kind of joke?"

Raphael laughed. "Buddy, my whole _life_ is a joke," he said. He rose slowly to his feet, doing his best to look non-threatening. His hand rested casually on the handle of the bike, close to the key in case he needed to get out of there fast. "Nah. See, aut'ors like yer wife, they've got a pretty good imagination. Sometimes it… gets away from 'em a little, ya know?"

The man shook his head again. "This is crazy."

"Ok, look," said Raph, losing patience. "If it'll make ya feel better, let's jus' pretend yer dreamin', ok? Dis is all a dream, an' yer gonna wake up in da mornin' an' evert'in will be back ta normal."

"O… Ok," said the man, still watching Raph. Slowly, he came forward. The fear had faded from his eyes. He was looking at Raph with something like awe, and curiosity. "Sorry," he said finally. "This is just…" He glanced at Raph's face again. "This is a lot to take in. My wife… I mean… she really likes you guys. A lot."

"Yeah." Raph smirked. "I t'ink she likes Leo da best though."

"She… she's not…" Ken stared at the mutant, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh… Oh, _shell_ no, not'in like dat!" Raph held up his hands. "No… Leo don't go wit' married women. He's real big on honor. An' yer wife…" Raph scowled. "How can ya ask dat? She's yer _wife,_ man. She ain't gonna cheat on ya wit' a giant _turtle_."

Ken's face flushed slightly. "Well, you know, we haven't been doing so great lately…"

"Yeah, I heard," said Raph, leaning against his bike. "She's pretty ticked at you right now."

"She told you?" Ken looked at the turtle. Raph was startled to see a hurt look in his eyes.

"Nah, not in so many words," he told the man. "But she's cryin' a lot an' throwin' stuff. She's pretty pissed."

"Yeah, well, I don't get it. First she tells me to go to Vegas, then she gets mad. What am I supposed to do?" Ken scowled. "Never see my friends? Stay home all the time?"

"Nah, but mebbe ya need ta spend more time wit' her," said Raph. "She's had a lot on her mind, wit' Arek havin' problems at school an' yer daughter growin' up an' all. Did ya know her friend passed away dis summer?"

"Yeah. One of those women from Montrose," said Ken.

"She's upset 'cause ya never got ta meet her friend," said Raph quietly.

Ken snorted. "Why would she want me to meet her friends? I mean, they're all those writer types."

"She loves ya, ya idiot," said Raph. "She wants ya ta be part o' her life. Listen, I _get _it, an' I'm a mutant _turtle_. It's not like I have lots o' experience wit' women. I mean, really. Lookit me. I'm _green_." He smirked, seeing a flash of humor in the man's eyes. Raph shook his head ruefully. "Most women… most _people_, take one look at me an' run off screamin'. But yer wife… she _likes_ me an' my brothers. She likes almost everybody. She wants ya ta be part o' her circle. Even _I_ know dat much."

"I don't know. I mean, she has her writing friends…"

"Yeah, but she needs _you_ ta be her friend, too," said Raph. "Do ya even know what she called her las' book?"

"Something about a butterfly," said Ken, shrugging.

"It's _My Sister The Monarch_," snapped Raph. "An' it's about a girl who's sister had a baby an' ran off an' left it fer da parents ta raise."

"Yeah, I remember she said something about that," said Ken slowly. "She was going to send it out to an editor. That's another thing… She writes all these books about turtles… why can't she write something to _sell_?"

"Sellin' books ain't easy," said Raphael quietly. "She's workin' on it. Why don'tcha ask 'er?"

"She doesn't want to talk to me about stuff like that," said Ken.

"Mebbe she does. Mebbe she wants ta know about what _yer_ doin'. Like da fire department. What's goin' on around here." Raph gestured toward the building that housed the fire-trucks and leaned a little closer. "Do ya even know what set her off? Do ya even know _why_ she's so pissed off at ya she's throwin' shurikens at yer dart-board?"

"Shuri-whats?"

"Hari-shurikens. Throwing stars," snapped Raphael.

"Where the hell'd she get those?" The man looked alarmed.

"From m' brother, Leo," said Raph, shrugging. "It seemed easier to give them to her than to argue. She's scary when she's mad."

Ken grinned. "I hear that."

"Dude. Ya gotta talk ta yer wife," said Raph quietly.

"Yeah. Maybe you're right," said Ken thoughtfully.

"Why dontcha take her out somewhere nice Friday night?" suggested Raph. "Talk ta her. Spend some time wit' her. Remember why ya married her."

Ken's hazel eyes snapped to Raphael's face. "Did she send you to talk to me?"

"Nope." The turtle grabbed his helmet. "She don't know I came." He considered for a moment asking the man not to tell her, but he knew it would be unfair to interfere in their marriage. "She'll prolly be pissed at me now, too," he said.

Ken shook his head with a grin. "You look like you can take care of yourself. Anyway, she _likes_ you guys."

"You couldn't tell by da way she writes," said Raph, scowling. "She's put us through da wringer a time 'r two."

"Really? I thought she was writing a romance series?"

"Yeah." He grinned. "She is. But they're _adventure_-romances, so we don't know we're supposed ta fall fer da girls until after da bad guys git us an' we gotta fight our way out."

Ken made a sympathetic noise. "Sorry."

"It's ok," said Raph with a grin. "Not everyone t'inks of us as _people_, ya know? It's… kinda nice. Jus' don't tell 'er I said so."

The man nodded.

"One more t'ing," said Raphael, grabbing his helmet and climbing on his bike. "Ya can't tell nobody else ya met me, ok?"

Ken nodded. "Who'd believe me?"

"Ya got a point there," said Raph. "Hey, go home an' talk ta yer wife, huh?"

"I will," said Ken. He stepped closer. Raph tensed for an instant, but Ken held out his hand. "Thanks, man."

"Hey, no problem," said Raph, shaking his hand. "Jus' make 'er happy, ok? She writes better stories when she's happy."

"I'll try," said Ken.

"Dat's all I ask." Raph slipped his helmet back on and flipped up the visor. "See ya."

"Yeah… I guess," said Ken, giving one last shaky laugh.

"Oh, believe me," said Raphael, smirking. "If ya piss yer wife off, I'll be back. An' ya _don't_ want me ta come back."

He revved the engine, ignoring the startled look the man gave him, and roared out of the parking lot, disappearing down the street before Ken could think of a reply.


	4. Chapter 4 Wisdom

**A/N: Hugs to a very sensible young friend who inspired Splinter's words of wisdom. I'll wrap this one up very soon.  


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_Chapter 4 -Wisdom-  
~~~_

Splinter watched the woman for a long moment, quietly waiting for her to become aware of his presence. She was sitting at the table, engrossed in a pad of rough paper, laying pencil lines down with light strokes. Some small rustle of his clothing must've gotten her attention, because she looked up suddenly.

"Splinter! Oh! Oh… you scared me." She gave him a slightly shaky smile. "I'm so sorry, Sir, I had no idea you were here. May… may I offer you a cup of tea?"

The rat noticed that the woman's eyes were no longer red-rimmed from crying, and her expression lacked the shattered look Leonardo had described upon his return. He realized she was waiting for his answer. His nose wrinkled slightly. The black tea Mikell'd offered Leonardo did not suit his palette.

She seemed to notice. "I have chamomile," she said apologetically. "And green tea. It's not what you're used to, but…" She trailed off, avoiding his gaze.

"That would be most appreciated, Miss Mikell," said Splinter with a smile.

_She seems… nervous,_ he thought. It seemed odd to Splinter that he sometimes had that effect on people.

_Perhaps the mutation…_ but she seemed at home enough with his sons.

He watched as she moved about the kitchen. She put the kettle on and assembled mugs and tea-bags with the ease of long habit.

_She is not used to having guests,_ he realized, watching her hesitation before she picked up the chipped sugar bowl and placed it on the table.

"I have sugar, but perhaps you'd prefer honey?" she asked, setting a second jar of the golden sweetener out on the table. "Or maybe you like your tea plain, like Leonardo?" she inquired. "My mother says it's blasphemous to add sugar to tea…" She smiled. "But my father wouldn't touch it without a spoon or two of sugar and a splash of milk."

"A bit of honey would be most appreciated," said Splinter gently.

The woman glanced at him. "Ok."

Splinter smiled. He could see her filing that small detail away for use in her stories. She set the mug carefully on the table before him. He noticed that her hand shook slightly as she set the cup down. She retreated to her own seat, wrapping her hands around her own cup as if it were her lifeline.

"You were drawing?" he asked politely, gesturing toward the pad of paper she'd moved to one side.

"Oh! Oh, well, I draw a little," she said. "It's… not very good." She ducked her head, blushing.

"May I see?" asked Splinter gently.

The woman set her tea down. "I… suppose so," she answered, lifting the pad of paper. She held it out almost reluctantly.

Splinter studied the drawing and looked up, surprised. "This is Michelangelo's wedding," he said.

"Yes." Her blush deepened.

The rat nodded. _What a happy day,_ he thought. _The sun shone so brightly. Usagi's flute took my memory back to Japan…_

"I wanted to keep the focus on Mike and Austin," said the author softly. "They were so happy."

"They are happy," said Splinter with a smile.

Mikell sniffed. "Please excuse me," she said quietly. She left the table. Splinter's keen hearing detected the muffled sounds of the author blowing her nose. Water ran in the sink. When Mikell returned to the table, her cheeks were slightly damp, but she was composed.

"Leonardo tells me you are unhappy," he said. _Might as well get straight to the point._

Mary looked at him, shocked. "Leo said… Oh… Oh well, I'm sorry to have bothered you all with my troubles," said the woman. A blush crept up her face.

"You have not bothered us," said Splinter. "If you wish to speak, these ears are open."

The woman smiled. "You said that to Danny," she said softly.

Splinter smiled. "Yes. It was true then. It is true now."

She drew a shuddering breath and took a sip of her tea. In the next room, squeals and skittering indicated the myriad of guinea pigs were upset with something. Mary smiled, glancing at the rat again.

"It's getting close to time for them to have their greens," she explained softly. "They get anxious."

Splinter chuckled. "They are rather like children," he said.

Mary Mikell nodded. "Yes." She sighed. "The kids are growing up, but my pets never do. They will always need me."

She took another sip of her tea. Splinter saw moisture welling in her eyes. She blinked the tears away, drawing another deep breath.

"Holding in ones feelings does not allow one to process them," he said softly, taking a sip from his own cup. _Hmm. Chamomile. Not my first choice for a day time tea, but pleasant none the less._

"Well, throwing shurikens at the dartboard didn't help process them very well either," she said, holding up her hand to show him the bandage with a rueful smile.

Splinter shook his head. "Raphael may find release in his punching bag," he said gently. "But physical activity does not settle your spirit."

"No." She sighed.

He regarded her thoughtfully. "When Leonardo was young," he told her, "He used to get very angry with his brothers."

"Leo?"

"Yes." Splinter smiled at her surprised look. "He would bottle his emotions up… they seemed to simmer in his heart, until they would explode in a fit of rage. Nothing seemed to contain them. I was at a loss as to how to deal with my son's growing anger. In the end, it was Donatello who discovered the solution to his brother's problem."

"Oh?" Mary was watching him, fascinated.

Splinter felt his whiskers twitch as one of the guinea pigs gave a particularly loud squeal. The woman blushed.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'll just get their greens. It's the only way to shut them up," she said, rising.

Splinter smiled. "Perhaps I might assist you? I do not believe I have seen a… guinea pig, before."

"Oh! Oh, sure, if you like." Her smile grew. She fetched a bunch of dark, leafy lettuce from the refrigerator. "They just need a few leaves each," she said, handing him a handful of the greens.

Splinter smiled, dropping the leaves into the shallow enclosure. Two brown animals shot out from their plastic igloo-shaped hiding spots and started nibbling the leaves. Splinter's eyes widened. The little animals were making the lettuce disappear at an amazing rate.

"Silly boys," said Mary affectionately. She reached down to scratch the darker pig's ears. The animal squealed in protest, but went right on munching his treat. Splinter examined the other enclosures. There were two of the shallow cages, one housing the two guinea pigs he'd fed, and one with a rust-brown rabbit who was enjoying her own mixture of greens. On top of the shelf sat two smaller cages, with one guinea pig each. A large tank held the fifth guinea pig, a dark-brown and black little fellow with wiry, sticking-up hair.

Splinter approached another, taller and more narrow cage. Its black bars were quite close together, and unlike the guinea pig's enclosures, this one sported shelves and ramps.

"What is in here?" he inquired.

"That's Spring," said Mary Mikell.

Splinter turned, detecting a note of embarrassment in the woman's voice.

"She's… our pet… rat," Mary managed.

Splinter smiled, seeing the small pink nose and black beady eyes poke out of a nest of wood shavings piled in the bottom of the cage. A cream-colored head emerged. The tiny animal watched him, her nose twitching with curiosity.

"She is very engaging," said Splinter with a smile.

"She's the best," said Mikell. She unlatched the cage and dropped a bit of lettuce onto a shelf. The little rat immediately darted up the ramps to fetch the lettuce, taking it back to her nest to nibble. She'd obviously completely forgotten the beings watching her with interest.

Splinter chuckled. "She also enjoys the lettuce," he remarked.

"She sure does. On Sundays, we make pancakes. She sits and begs until Ken feeds her some," said Mary. Splinter felt her relaxing.

_Did she fear I would be offended?_

"Would you like another cup of tea?" asked Mary.

"That would be most appreciated, Miss Mikell," said Splinter. He almost sighed. More chamomile? He wouldn't be able to meditate for the rest of the day, for fear of falling asleep.

He watched as Mary fixed more tea. When she'd settled at the table again, he simply waited. Splinter had raised four sons. He was well used to using patience to get them to open up to him.

The woman stirred her cup, watching the liquid swirl.

"So how did Leonardo deal with his anger?" she asked finally.

Splinter chuckled. "Donatello asked him to assist him in writing a letter, an assignment I'd given him as part of his educational studies. Leonardo had been having a particularly difficult morning. He agreed to help his sibling with his project. Donatello had intended to write to a fictional pen-pal. As Leonardo got more involved in the project, Donatello found himself having to begin again. Leonardo wrote for the entire afternoon, long after Donatello had finished his assignment. When Leonardo finally stopped writing, his spirit was calm once more. Since then, he has kept a journal. Writing helps quiet his spirit and gives him an outlet when his brothers are… difficult for him."

Mary laughed. "I'd bet he's written reams about Raph," she commented.

"I have not read his writings," said Splinter with a smile. "But he does seem to use the most paper and ink when he and Raphael have disagreed."

"Raphael was here this morning," she said quietly.

"Yes," said Splinter. "I believe he has gone to seek out your husband."

"What?" Mary's eyes snapped to Splinter's face. She'd gone quite pale. "But Ken doesn't know about you guys. I mean, what if he tries to… I don't know… I don't think he'd _attack_ Raph, but he might. I mean, if he didn't know… he might get scared."

"Raphael is capable of taking care of himself," said Splinter quietly. "Please do not worry."

"But Ken… He's not a trained fighter. Raph could really hurt him!" Mary Mikell jumped to her feet.

Splinter stood as well, grasping her arm in a gentle but firm grip.

"Miss Mikell. Calm yourself. My son will not cause Ken-san harm."

"Are you sure? I couldn't bear it if Ken was hurt," said Mary, sinking back down. Tears slid freely down her cheeks now.

"Raphael wishes to speak with your husband," said Splinter. "Nothing more. I have taught my sons how _not_ to cause harm as well as how to fight."

"I know." She sniffed. "I wouldn't want anything to happen… to _either_ of them."

"I am sure Raphael is able to handle the situation," said Splinter calmly, sending up a silent prayer to whomever watched over fan-fiction that he was right. "Miss Mikell, it is obvious that you love your husband."

"I do, Sir," she said softly. Fresh tears made little pink tracks down her cheeks.

"Then why this unhappiness?" he asked softly. "Leonardo tells me you are married for many years. You have children. You have always seemed quite happy."

"I was, Sir," she said softly. She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "Until I got a phone call from a close friend. She was worried. She'd heard rumors… Most of them are nonsense. Ken is an honorable man."

Splinter watched the woman, considering.

"You are happy?"

"I have been."

"And you trust your husband?"

She nodded decisively. "Yes, Sir."

"You have been married a long time, have you not?"

"Yes. Fourteen years. Fifteen, next summer."

Splinter smiled, taking a sip of his tea. "Miss Mikell… Will you allow one phone call to spoil the happiness you and your husband have enjoyed all these years?"

The woman stared at him, her mouth dropping open in shock.

"I… I hadn't thought of it that way," she said finally.

Splinter nodded. He watched the terrible grief ease from the woman's expression. Only uncertainty remained.

"You are still troubled?"

"Yes, Sir. There is… one thing. She said… She said she'd heard he… he is unhappy, Sir."

"Do you believe he is unhappy?" asked Splinter calmly.

"I… don't know," she said. The grief tore at her voice, making it come out ragged, hitched.

"Why do you not simply… ask him?"

She laughed, a short, hollow sound of relief. "I… I will. Thank you, Sir."

His eyebrows rose. "What reason have you to thank me, Miss Mikell?"

The author smiled. "For being so… sensible."


	5. Chapter 5 Stuck

**A/N: My plans for wrapping this up went out the window with a 3-day long rainstorm and an extremely frustrating afternoon. :-p  
The car is out. I still feel like an idiot. And men are still _bakas_. So yeah. I guess it's not over quite yet.  


* * *

**

_Chapter 5 –Stuck-  
~~~_

"Looks like yer in pretty deep, Author."

"Shut _up_, Raphael."

Raph chuckled, leaning against the porch. He watched as Mary Mikell jabbed at the slick mud under the tire of her car with a shovel.

"Da frame's restin' on da ground," he remarked. "Ya can't dig it out dat way."

"Raph, either help or shut up and go away," growled the woman, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"Aut'or, I ain't really here," he informed her. "You know dat. I can't _really_ help."

"Then _go away,_" she snapped. Raph ignored her, chuckling again.

"Why dontcha just call yer husband?"

"So he can tell me I'm an idiot for parking in the yard in the first place?" She snorted. "No thanks."

"He can get ya out."

"Yeah, after he has a fit about having to come home from work while he's busy."

"He ain't dat busy."

"Yes, actually, he is. And he doesn't like being interrupted. And I don't like upsetting him." The author threw the shovel, narrowly missing Raph's foot.

"Hey!" he yelped, dodging aside. He started to say more, his amber eyes flashing with anger, but then he caught sight of the author. She was crying. Again.

Raph sighed.

"Mikell. Call 'im."

"Shut up, Raph."

"Oh come on. It ain't like he's gonna yell at ya. Ever'body makes mistakes sometimes."

"Yeah well, I can't seem to do anything right," she shot back. She kicked the tire viciously.

"Oh, dat'll help," said Raph sarcastically as she almost lost her balance. It was obvious her leg was paining her. He crossed the short space between them, catching her before she could actually fall.

"I thought you couldn't help," she said, glaring at him. She let him help her over to the stairs where she sat down, stretching out the offending limb.

"Yeah well… we can help a _little_," he said, smirking. "We jus' can't do stuff like change yer tire. Or fix yer marriage. You've gotta do dat fer yerself."

"I'm _trying_, Raphael," she snapped. Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks.

_Shell, do women always cry when they're mad?_ He wondered. He knew better than to say anything aloud. Not when she was in this mood. He vowed to ask Donatello later. Preferably out of earshot of any of the girls.

"Well, why dontcha call yer Ma? She offered ya money ta go wit' him on his trip, right? Can't she help ya get yer car unstuck?"

That brought on a fresh torrent of tears.

"Go away." Her voice was strangled.

"What? What'd I say?"

She was on her feet, storming off into the house.

_Aw, shell._

"Mikell! Hey, Mikell, wait up." He followed, but the woman was already half-way across the kitchen. Putting on a burst of speed. Raph caught up with her, catching her arm. "Mikell!"

"Let me _go_!" She spun, catching him in the arm with an instinctive strike.

Raph shook his head.

"Was dat supposed ta hurt me?" he asked.

"No, damn it, but let me go," she squirmed, glaring at him.

"Ya gonna quit running away from me?"

"I'm not running away!"

He released her and she took a step back, but didn't leave. She stood, glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What da _shell_, Mikell?" he growled. "What did I say?"

"Will you just… _butt out_?" she shouted.

"Mikell, what's _wrong?_ Geez, I t'ought ya were excited when yer Ma said she'd…"

"Shut up! He doesn't want me to go, ok? So just _shut up _about it." She turned away.

"What?" Raph stopped, confused. "Why da shell not?"

"He… he says it's because he wants time with his friends," the woman's voice shook. "He says he wants us to go when we can be together and he's not busy with _them._"

"Oh." Raph wasn't sure what to say. Shell, he could understand Ken's reasoning. When he went out with Casey, he didn't always want Ann tagging along. But this was different. Mary and Ken hadn't had a real vacation together in a long time.

"Do… do ya trust 'im?" he asked quietly.

"I always have," she answered.

Raphael felt something constrict in his chest. Her voice sounded uncertain.

"Do ya trust 'im, Mikell, or don't ya? Ya gotta decide."

"I do." Her tone was steadier now. "He's not going to… I don't know, get a prostitute or anything like that. He's not like that. He wouldn't."

"But he wants ta go an' party wit' his friends." Raphael reached out tentatively, touching her shoulder.

"Yeah."

"But ya went out ta dinner an' a movie las' week."

"Yeah, we did. It was… nice."

"And?"

"And… we talked. Some. I'm… I'm working on getting the house in order."

"Oh. Is dat why yer not writin' as much dis week?"

"Yeah."

"Well… it looks better."

Mikell laughed. "It's a mess," she said. "I've got Arek's room clean, and the laundry room is better, but I still have Jessi's room, and the living room. I want to clean out my kitchen cabinets and get the bathrooms under control… I have to do some re-calking around the tub upstairs…"

Raph shook his head. "Sounds like a lot ta do all at once," he said. "Why dontcha do a little at a time?"

"I'm trying, Raph, but you don't understand." Mary moved her hand in a gesture of frustration. "I get one room clean and it seems like the kids come right along behind me and mess things up again. I can't keep up."

"Ya want me ta talk ta 'em?"

"It's not your job, Raph. But thanks." She sighed.

"Mikell. Take it easy. Ya said yerself, it's gonna take time, right? Ya can't get da house all cleaned up in jus' one week, an' ya can't fix what's wrong between ya dat fast, either."

"I had a nightmare last night," she said softly.

Raphael groaned inwardly. "Oh? Ya wanna talk about it?" He braced himself for another outburst. Usually when anyone asked about her nightmares, she'd take off for a walk in the woods or curse and tell them to leave her alone.

"He… he left me," she whispered. "He said he couldn't live this way anymore. He walked out. Went to live with his folks."

"Oh." Raph was at a loss. He reached out and touched her shoulder. Mikell turned, and he found himself with an armful of sobbing woman.

"I… I can't do this, Raph. I can't bear it. What would I do?"

"Mary." Raph touched her back, feeling a bit awkward. "He ain't gonna leave ya. Ya _know_ he ain't leavin'."

"I know." She sniffed, pulling away. "I'm sorry. Listen, you don't have to deal with this. Why don't you just go? I'll… I'll call him to get the car out."

"Ya sure?"

"I'm sure."

"All righ'. Listen, I'd hang aroun', but… I t'ink I freaked 'im out a little las' time."

"I'm sure you did, you idiot. I can't believe you talked to him." She punched his arm lightly. "He hasn't said a word about it."

"He's prolly afraid you'll think he's nuts," answered Raph, smirking.

"He knows I _know_ he's nuts," Mikell answered, laughing. "He's most likely trying to pretend it didn't happen."

"Yeah." Raph's smirk grew.

"Maybe I'll see you later, ok, Raph?"

"Count on it, Author."


	6. Chapter 6 Broken

**A/N: Warning for mature conversation in this chap. Nothing graphic/dirty, just a mild reference to adult materials.  
Many thanks to my real-life friends who have been my rocks throughout. hugs**

* * *

_Chapter 6 –Broken-  
~~~_

The woman lay on the bed, writing in a notebook. Leonardo watched her, leaning on the doorframe, for a moment before moving into the room. She didn't look up until he walked around behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't you know better than to startle me by now, Leonardo?" she asked, leaning back to look up at him. She was frowning, but Leo saw a tell-tale tug at the corners of her mouth.

"You knew I was here," he said, smiling

She sighed. "Yeah, I'm getting better at hearing you guys coming. Besides, you weren't trying very hard, were you?"

"No."

Leonardo walked back around the bed and perched, leaning back to rest his shell against the wall. Mikell looked at him, her eyebrows rising with amusement.

"Comfortable?"

Leo grinned. "Yep."

"Goodness, you're full of yourself today," she remarked.

"Well, you know, Sierra…" Leo blushed and the author giggled.

"You're so cute, Leo," she said, laughing harder when his blush deepened.

He looked around for something to change the subject.

"Yeah, well… Hey, what's this?" He leaned over, plucking a small box off the window-sill. "Playing cards? Fifty-two ways to…"

Mary Mikell snatched the cards from his hand. "Leo! Those aren't… I mean, Ken was supposed to put them away." It was her turn to blush now.

"What do you want with those?" asked Leo, smirking.

"Shut up. We bought them… for ideas. You know."

"No, actually I have no idea," said Leo with a sly grin.

"Here, have a tootsie-roll." She threw the candy at him. He snatched it instinctively from mid-air.

"What's that for?" he asked, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth.

"Well, if you're going to _act _immature, I might as well treat you like a kid," she said.

"I think you're just trying to shut me up." He smirked.

"That too." She tucked the playing cards into a drawer.

"Oh, come on, Mikell. Are you embarrassed?"

"No." The look she gave him dared him to argue. Leonardo smirked, but didn't comment.

"Ideas for… the bedroom?" he asked with a sly grin.

"You're not allowed to ask that," snapped the woman. "But if you must know, everything's fine. We were just looking for… excitement. Some inspiration."

Leonardo snorted and she punched his arm.

"Idiot. Fifteen years from now, maybe you and Sierra will be buying… inspiration."

"Fifteen years?" Leo looked thoughtful. "You think we'll still be together after fifteen years?"

"You'd better be," she grumbled. "It took me thirty chapters to get you together."

"Sorry." Leo grinned again.

"Anyway… those things were no help. They're supposed to inspire couples. All they inspired for us was hysterical laughter." Mary sighed.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I had to count the legs in some of the pictures. I wasn't sure how many people they were showing." She snickered.

Leonardo's eyes widened in shock. "Mary!"

"What? I'm not _that_ old, Leo," she said with a cheeky grin. "Older than _you_, sure, but I'm still… interested in the finer points of my relationship with my husband."

"Oh, well… maybe I'd better get going," he muttered, turning an even deeper shade of mottled reddish-green.

Mary burst into laughter. "Am I embarrassing you, Leonardo?"

"Umm, maybe a little," he confessed.

"Oh good grief. You have _Raphael_ for a brother, and you're bothered by a bit of… instructional reading?" she teased.

"Well…"

"Ok, ok, we can talk about something else," she said, still giggling.

"So… how're the kids doing in school?"

She sighed. "Something _else_," she said.

"What?"

"Pick a different subject." She waved her hand. "Any other subject."

"Why? What's wrong?" Leonardo looked at the woman, confused. He'd seen several test papers from both kids on the refrigerator on his way in. They'd all be marked with A's.

"Academically, they're doing great," said the author with a sigh. "But Jessi came home sick twice last week and Arek had zeros in his behavior book again."

"Is that bad?"

"Yeah… he can get points for doing the stuff he's supposed to do without whining or arguing with the teacher. If he has a temper fit, he loses points."

"Sounds like a good system," said Leo cautiously.

"It is," replied the author. "But Ken has high expectations. He gets upset when the kids aren't behaving in school. He figures they should just go in and toe the line. You know, get along… be a part of the crowd."

"Well… teamwork _is _important," said Leo slowly.

"Sure it is," said Mikell with a frustrated sigh. "But our kids do what they're supposed to… they just have a hard time following orders and fitting in with a group, you know? They prefer to do things their own way."

"Sounds like someone I know," said Leo.

Mary smiled. "Yeah."

They sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes.

"So, how do you and Splinter handle Raph?" she asked.

Leonardo shot the woman a startled look. She grinned.

"You're not a married couple, I know," she said, laughing aloud at the horrified look he gave her. "But you sort of function the same way Ken and I do, as partners in leading a team."

Slowly, Leo nodded. "I see what you're saying."

"You kind of act like Ken," she said, tilting her head to gaze at him thoughtfully. "You expect Raph to fall in line and follow orders, to get along for the good of the team."

"Not so much anymore," he protested.

"I know," she replied, grinning. "But you still have that expectation, right? So, how did Splinter handle it?"

"He told me to meditate on the differences between my brothers and I," said Leo with a dark look.

Mary guffawed. "I can see that helped," she remarked with a grin. "Anyway, I can't tell Ken to meditate. He'd think I'd lost my mind."

"Well… maybe you can talk to him," said Leo. "Explain to him…"

"I've tried. It's one of our most frequent arguments." The woman sighed. "He just can't seem to accept me… them, the way they are."

Leonardo watched her for a long moment, a smirk playing over his features.

"Oh?" He gave her a deliberately innocent look.

"Oh shut up." She blushed, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it, and set it carefully on the bed.

Mikell leaned forward, hugging her knees. After a moment, she straightened her leg with a _crack_, making the turtle wince.

"Is that still bothering you?" he asked.

"Leo. You know it's not going to get better," she said, glancing at him.

"Maybe with exercise…"

She sighed. "Now you even _sound_ like Ken. No, Leo. Exercise will help strengthen the joint. I walk because the longer I can keep it strong and limber, the longer I can put off… more drastic measures. But it won't get better. Not ever. It's just… how it is."

"Oh."

She tucked her legs up again, hugging her knees. "Leo, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Do you… do you think my marriage is… broken? I mean, am I just exercising to delay the inevitable?"

Leonardo stared at Mary Mikell, shocked. "No way. You guys have been married… like forever. You've got two great kids together. Mary, you _love _him. And I know he loves you."

He moved across the bed, coming to sit next to her. He put a tentative arm around her shoulders. The woman leaned into him. Her muscles were hard, quivering with tension under his arm.

"Hey," he said softly. "Listen. Remember when Jessi was in kindergarten, and she fell out of the clubhouse and broke her arm?" He felt Mikell shiver.

"Yeah. It was one of the worst days of my life," she said softly.

"Well, it was really broken, wasn't it? The doctor had to straighten the bones and everything."

"Don't remind me." The woman was slightly pale now.

"But it _healed_, didn't it?" he pointed out gently. "And the doctor said even though it started to heal with the ends of the bones not quite lined up, it healed _stronger_ than before it was broken, remember?"

She sniffed. "Yeah. I remember."

"Listen, Mikell. Your leg is a mess because it wasn't set properly when it was broken, right? It didn't have a chance to heal straight. Well, your marriage is like Jessi's arm. It's broken, sure, but you're working to heal it. It's getting straightened out. It's gonna heal, and it's gonna be stronger than it was before."

Slowly, the woman nodded.

"I get it," she said softly. "Thanks, Leo."

"Anytime," he said, giving her a squeeze. "Hey. You're going to be ok, you know? You still believe in happy endings, don't you?"

"Yeah." The woman sniffed and leaned against comfortably against him. "I guess so. As long as I have good friends around me, I'll be just fine."


	7. Chapter 7 Cleaning House

**A/N: I figured it was time Donny and Mike showed up. I've been giving them a rather rough time in the later chapters of Leonardo's Angel, so I thought they could each use a big hug. I know I needed one after today... We cleaned the porch and shifted 3 tons of bagged coal. Ugh. On the plus side, it was as good a day as we've had together in a while. We seem to take two steps forward and one back... but at least we're making progress.**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 6 –Cleaning House-  
~~~_

Donatello stood leaning on the doorframe, trying to fight back a smile. Mary Mikell was on the bathroom floor, scrubbing with unnecessary force at a stubborn spot of dirt at the corner of the bathtub where it met the linoleum.

Don cleared his throat and dodged as a wet rag flew at his head.

"Geez, Mikell, jumpy much?" he grumbled.

"Well if you guys would _quit_ sneaking up on me!" she snapped. "_Honestly_, Donny. Toss me that rag back, will you?"

"Sure. What're you doing, anyway?"

"Saving my marriage," she growled, returning to her work.

"Oh?" Don's eyeridges rose.

"Yes. I know by now you've heard about this from your brothers. Where have you and Mike been, anyway?"

"Well… we were kind of busy," said Don. "You know, you wrote us into…"

"Ok, ok, I get it," said Mary, holding up her hand. "Sorry. But it has a happy ending, right?"

"Yeah, I know." The purple-banded turtle smiled. "I figured it out, you know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. When we first broke in and I got into the files on the computer."

The author snorted. "I should never have let you near that monitor," she grumbled. "Well, are you going to stand there and watch, or are you going to help me?" she asked, giving him a _look_.

"Umm… Sure I guess. I can give you a hand," he said, coming into the small room and squatting next to the woman. "What can I do?"

"What? I didn't actually expect you to help, Donny," she said, looking startled. "Raph said you guys can't actually help me with stuff like this. He said you have… limited influence on the real world or some such nonsense."

Donatello snorted. "You mean when you were trying to get your car out?"

"Yeah." The woman scowled.

"Well…" the turtle pondered for a moment. "Even Raph's probably not strong enough to have pushed you out of that mud. I mean, Ken couldn't do it, and he's a pretty strong guy. He had to use his truck to get you out."

"You mean, Raphael could've helped me?" The author's voice rose. "Oh you wait. I'm going to talk to Katie. I feel another book coming on." She scrubbed at the spot so hard Don was sure the tile would crack.

"Oh, well I'm sure he… umm… meant well," he stammered. "I mean, Raph can't interfere… none of us can, really. It was better that you asked Ken to help you, right? Didn't it help you figure out some of what's wrong with you guys?"

"I don't need a mutant marriage counselor," she snapped.

Donatello didn't answer. After a moment, Mikell looked at him. Regret flickered in her eyes and she sighed.

"I'm sorry, Don. I don't mean to take it out on you," she said softly. "Forgive me?" She held her hand out to him. "Please?"

He hesitated for a heartbeat before taking the woman's hand. "Truce?" he asked. "You won't write Raph into some insane situation over this?"

"I guess not," she said.

"Ok." Donatello smiled. "So, how're things going?"

"A little better," she admitted. "Help me up, will you?"

"Why are you doing all this, anyway?" He gestured, taking in the room. Cleaning supplies were stacked on every available surface and the counters shone as if dirt would never dare blemish them again.

"We talked about what he wants, what's been bugging him. The state of the house was high on his list," she said, shrugging. "So I'm trying to whip the place into shape."

"Oh."

"What do you think?"

The words left Donatello's mouth before he could stop them. "You missed a spot." He knew instantly he'd made a grave mistake, but there was no undoing the damage. The woman's face crumpled. She turned away, but not before he saw tears glittering in her eyes.

_Oh shell… not again. Good grief, and Leo warned me. Nice going, genius._

Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders, but she pulled away, stalking out of the room.

"Hey," he called, following her. She didn't go far for a change, only to the bedroom where she plopped down on the bed. When she saw the purple-banded turtle standing hesitantly in the door, she snorted.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "I just… Listen, I'm sorry, ok? It looks great. It really does."

"It's not enough," she whispered, leaning forward and resting her chin on her knees. "It's never enough."

"You feel like you can't get things the way he wants them?"

"I _know_ I can't. And I'm still mad at him… and I don't know how to talk to him about it. Don… He said he'd stop being chief after this year."

Donatello whistled. "He's giving up the fire department?"

Mary snorted and shook her head. The look she shot him was bitter.

"Are you kidding? That place is his _life._ I… I wouldn't ask him to quit."

"But you don't want him to be chief again, is that it?"

"Yeah…"

"How many years does he have left?"

"Two." She leaned back with a sigh. "How does Bev handle you having so many projects and things, aside from your normal training and patrols?"

Donatello shifted. "Well, umm…"

"Oh, great, so you're just as bad as Ken. Ever forget her?"

"Well… Only once. And I was in the middle of a really important update to the security system… We had plans to go out to a movie…" Donatello was blushing now.

"She was pretty mad, huh?"

"Yeah. She wouldn't talk to me for like… two days."

Mary snorted, but then she looked at him, suddenly serious.

"Donny… You've got to take good care of her, ok?"

"Of course!" His chocolate-brown eyes widened. "She wouldn't… I mean, you wouldn't write her… leaving me, would you?" The purple-banded turtle swallowed.

The author took pity on him. "Donny-san, I wouldn't do that to you," she said gently. "Just… make sure you pay attention to her, you know?"

"Mary… I have a feeling this isn't about me and Bev," said Don carefully. He moved closer, and Mary shifted over to make room for him to sit beside her.

"Well… It's just… I almost did leave him once."

"You did?" Don looked at her, shocked.

"Yep." She nodded. "Jessi was just a few months old. I was supposed to go out that night, to a meeting, and he was supposed to watch her. He never came home. He went out on a fire call. I got tired of waiting for him, and as it got later, I got madder and madder. Finally I packed her up and went to my brother's."

"Wow. You came back."

"Obviously." She nodded. "My brother told me he couldn't tell me what to do, but he thought I shouldn't do something I'd regret."

"He sounds pretty smart."

Mary turned and gave him a smile. "He's not smart the way you are, mechanically, I mean, but yeah, when it comes to people, he's amazing. He's a great guy."

"Yeah, brothers are pretty cool," said Don with a grin.

"Even yours?" Mary asked innocently.

"Well, I don't know about Mikey…" Donatello smirked.

"Hey!" An indignant voice broke in and an orange-banded turtle stepped into the bedroom.

"Michelangelo!" Mary stared. "Where on earth did you come from?"

"Well, I couldn't let Donny have _all_ the fun, could I? How ya been, Mikell?"

"You really want to hear the answer to that, Michelangelo?" Mary glared at him. "And it's impolite to eavesdrop, you know."

Mikey gave her a cheeky grin. "Sorry. But how else am I gonna find stuff out?"

"You could try coming by yourself, you big doof."

"Well, Donny and me've been kinda busy, you know?" He gave her a _look_ from those blue eyes before coming to sit on her other side.

"Oh good grief. Ok, I'm sorry about that, Mike, I really am. But I _had_ to. For the story."

"You know what would make us feel better?"

"What?"

"Some really big pizzas, an' maybe a sports car, an'…" Donatello reached around the author to smack his brother on the head. "Ow! Hey, Donny!" Mikey protested.

"All right, you two," said Mary with a grin. "Come on. I'll make a pot of coffee."

"And a pizza?" Mikey piped up hopefully.

"Of course." She gave him a grin. "You're going to need to keep your strength up for those late-night feedings…"

Michelangelo went a little pale. "Late… night?"

"Yep. Don't worry. It'll be great," she said, giving him a grin. "Just make sure…" She glanced at Don. "Just… take good care of Austin, ok?"

"Of course, Mikell. You know I will," said Michelangelo, uncharacteristically serious.

"That's all I ask," said the author. Standing up, she turned to wrap her arms around Mikey, who returned her hug enthusiastically. Letting Mikey go, she gave Don the same treatment, adding a kiss on the cheek for the very startled turtle.

When she let him go, he stared at her. "What was _that_ for?" he asked, looking a bit stunned.

"Just because, Don." Mary grinned.

"Because why?"

"Because you're so darn _cute_ when you're blushing."


	8. Chapter 8 Miss You

**A/N: I have to be honest, after the last chapter I wasn't sure about finishing this and when I do deem it finished, I will likely remove it. However, I have decided to keep on for just a bit longer, if for no other reason than to see it through to the end.  
**

**Do keep in mind, if you choose to read, that this is a completely selfish endeavor. I'm attempting some small entertainment, but I have no grand illusions of writing something world-stopping or heart wrenching... I hope some younger readers might gain insight into the workings of a marriage... at least the working of ONE marriage, through this, for whatever good that might be, and that is the only reason I've posted it, rather than just keeping it on my computer as a sort of journal. **

**Thanks to those who've expressed support. For the record, I am ok. As ok as it's possible to be. And I do have "real life" friends with whom I talk over these things in much greater, and more personal detail. Writing this simply helps me to bring to the surface the undercurrent of my thoughts when my emotions are too turbulent otherwise for me to see them clearly. Sometimes I can say things to the "turtles" that I can't say to my friends.  
**

**I will very rarely say this but, if you don't like what you read, the little red "x" at the top of the page is there for a reason. Flames will be ignored.  
**

**All that aside... Just so there's no misunderstanding, my husband has gone, obviously alone, to Las Vegas for five days, to attend a friend's wedding.  
**

* * *

_Chapter 8 –Miss You-  
~~~_

"Cut it _out_, you two idiots," snapped Mary as the dogs tried once more to go in opposite directions. "We're attached here, you know," she added, giving the leashes wrapped around her wrists a tug.

Bella ignored her, seemingly intent on sniffing a particularly interesting bit of shrubbery. Nellie came to her side, tail wagging and nudged her leg with her nose.

"Is that where you got the idea for the ropes in Jack's barn?" asked a sardonic voice. The author turned so quickly she nearly dropped Bella's leash.

"Donatello! For goodnessakes, _stop_ sneaking up on me like that." She was smiling and Don could tell the anger in her tone was forced. "Where's Mikey?"

"He didn't come this time. Leo's in the house, I think, and Raph's out back somewhere."

"Oh? So you were the designated scare-the-author-Turtle this time?" she asked.

Don smirked. "Yeah, looks that way."

Bella noticed his presence at that point, and ran at the end of the leash with a throaty bellow. Don backed up a step, obviously startled and Mary laughed.

"It's ok Don. She's just excited," she said.

"I heard how excited she gets," muttered Donatello, eyeing the dog. "Mike said she chased him all over the back yard."

"Well, he ran," retorted the author with a smirk. "There's nothing a hound likes more than prey that runs."

"Oh great, she's a short, furry Raph."

"Pretty much, yeah."

Mary took a step forward, letting the dog get closer. Don wavered for a moment, but stood still. Bella approached cautiously, her head low, her hackles ruffled.

"It's ok, Bella," soothed Mary quietly. "He's not gonna hurt you."

"What about _me?_" asked Don indignantly.

Nellie wasn't nearly as shy. In one leap, she planted her paws on Don's plastron, barking enthusiastically and nearly knocking him back on his shell.

"Down, Nellie!" cried the woman between giggles. She gave the leash a tug, dragging the larger dog off Donatello.

Nellie sat back on her haunches with a happy little bark. Bella, seeing her furred friend wasn't afraid to attack the turtle, romped over, stretching her neck to lick his three fingered hand.

"See, I told you she's friendly."

"I guess so." He knelt to scratch the dog's ears. He glanced up at the author. "Looks like you're in a better mood these days."

"Not really." She sighed. "It just takes a lot of energy to be angry and upset all the time. I'm amazed Raph has _any_ energy."

"Raph is a unique individual," said Don seriously.

"I heard that," replied the author with a grin.

She started toward the house. Don glanced toward the neighbor's house, checking to see that the coast was clear before following her.

"So… you've finished Leo's story, huh?"

"Just about. The epilogue's giving me some problems." Don smirked and the author shot him a _look_. "Don't _start,_ Donatello."

"What?" He gave her a wide-eyed, innocent stare worthy of Michelangelo.

She shook her head. "I'm not saying _anything,_" she told him. "So don't try to draw me into giving away hints. I'm not doing it."

Donatello laughed. "Ok, whatever you say."

Reaching the front steps, the dogs lunged up the stairs, half-dragging the author with them. She swore, planting her feet and giving the leashes a yank. "Knock it _off_." The dogs ignored her, lessening their pull only slightly as they thundered toward the front door, their claws scrabbling on the wooden floor the entire way.

"What's up with them?" asked Donatello, trying not to laugh.

"They know it's dinner time," Mary explained. "They're in a hurry to get to their dishes."

"Kind of like Mikey and Raph," said Don with a grin.

"Real nice, Don."

"Heh."

The door slammed against the wall, and something fell with a crash, tripping the author so she nearly fell. She swore again, more vividly this time. Donatello shook his head, picking up the object. His eyes widened with surprise.

"Is this supposed to be a bo?"

"What? No." Mary released the dogs into the kitchen. They raced across the floor, their leashes dragging.

Donatello followed her, giving the staff an experimental spin. "It's heavy, but not bad," he commented.

"Careful!" Mikell caught the staff in mid spin, whisking it out of his hands before he could react. His eyes widened slightly at the speed of the action.

"Hey!"

"What's the matter? Did I hurt your ninja pride?" she asked with a grin. "You weren't paying attention, Don."

"I wasn't expecting you to be that fast," he answered.

"I may be old and crippled, but I'm not that slow."

"You handle that like you know what you're doing," he said, watching her prop it in a corner.

Mary shook her head. "Not like you, no. Not even remotely close And anyway, it's not a bo staff. It's a quarterstaff, which is why it's heavier. It's a little thicker than what you use. And it's locust, instead of the traditional oak or ash."

"Why?"

"Weight. Locust is slightly lighter, but still durable. I've had that staff for over twenty years." She brushed her hand over the worn wood in an affectionate gesture. The smooth places on the surface showed clearly where her grip fell.

Don shook his head. "I have to get a new one every few months. Sometimes more often."

"That's because you fight guys with blades," she responded with a laugh. "I only ever sparred against another staff-wielder. Anyway, it's a walking stick now. I use it when I hike.

"Why? Isn't it kind of heavy?"

"Yeah…"

Donatello watched her smooth a hand over the weathered wood again. "Can't quite bear to part with it, hmm?"

"Enough with the psychoanalyzing," she said, turning to him with a grin.

"Ok, ok. Anyway, we thought we'd drop in, see how you were doing, you know?"

"And raid my 'fridge?" she asked with a grin.

"Well…"

"You want coffee? And I have cake. No pizza this time."

"That's ok. To be honest I get sick of pizza."

He watched her move around the room, dodging the dogs who'd emptied their bowls and were now wrestling wildly with snarls and yips. Something was wrong, something was missing…

"You're not wearing your necklace," he said suddenly.

Mary stopped, turning to look at him. Her hand strayed to her neck where the heart-shaped charm usually lay warm against her skin. Turning, she went back to assembling the coffee.

"I guess I forgot it."

"Mary. All the times we've been here, I've never seen you without it," he said.

She straightened, rolling her shoulders and tipping her head back, a movement Don had seen Leo use countless times to relieve stiffness in his neck after meditating. There was a sharp _crack_. Mary grinned a bit sheepishly.

"You know you're getting older when you start sounding like a box of cereal," she said.

"Was that your leg?"

"Shoulder."

Donatello shook his head.

"Yeah, I know. Exercise." She blew out a sigh. "I'll get to it."

"You've got to take care of yourself, you know."

"Whatever." She plopped the coffee down in front of him, followed by a large piece of cake. Don glanced up and saw her hand touching the place where the missing necklace should have been in an absent minded gesture.

"You miss him, huh?"

"What?"

"Ken. He's been gone for, what, three days now?"

"Yeah." She sank into a chair across the table with a sigh.

"But he called."

"Once."

"When does he get back?"

"Monday, early." Her tone was weary.

"Mary?" Don pushed the cake aside and leaned forward to look at the woman. "What's going on? Don't you _want_ him to come home?" Her gaze snapped up to meet his, startled.

She stood up and stalked away across the kitchen. Her hand went to the wood leaning against the wall and she drew it close to her, running her hand over it. Donatello stood up, approaching her cautiously.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be. I _want_ to want him to come home." She took a deep, shuddering breath. Don half expected her to start crying again, but when she faced him, her eyes were dry, her expression determined.

"We're going to have to work at it, Donny," she said quietly. He noticed she'd taken a grip on the staff at the mid-way mark. She hadn't forgotten how to fight.

"Sometime," he said carefully, "If you'd like a workout, I'd spar with you."

She gave him a startled look and laughed.

"You're sweet," she said. "But I think I've broken enough bones already for this lifetime." Catching his expression, she laughed harder. "Donny, I appreciate the offer, I really do. I know you wouldn't go all ninja on me," she said, holding up her hand to forestall his protest. "But I'm twenty years out of practice and I wasn't very good to begin with. I have no doubt you _would_ be gentle, but I doubt you could be gentle _enough._ I'm not a fighter."

"Oh, I don't know, Mikell," said Donatello. He laid his hand over hers on the staff. "Looks to me like you haven't forgotten everything."

She nodded her understanding and gave him a wavering smile. "I sure hope not."


	9. Chapter 9 Cheer Up

**A/N: I almost feel like apologizing for updating again so soon... and that in itself is strange. :-p**

**I suppose this chapter is the humor that comes with time and the beginnings of healing. And he'll be home in just over an hour, so posting this is a release of some of my nervous tension.**

**Unless something else cataclysmic goes wrong, I will likely wrap this up very soon.  
**

* * *

_Chapter 9 -Cheer Up-  
~~~_

Mikey leaned against the wall, watching the author. He and his brothers had decided to hang around while Ken was out of town. There was a strange sense of peace in the little house. Not everyone was so completely at ease in their company as Mary Mikell seemed to be. He'd been sure she'd kick them out after he and Raph got in a wrestling match and knocked over that lamp, but she just shook her head and got the broom, scolding them all the while like a disturbed mother hen.

When Leo came in from his hike through the trees out back, he'd apologized in his formal way and offered to round up his brothers and take them home. She'd looked startled and refused.

_Leo, I grew up with brothers. The house is quiet when you guys aren't around. Please don't go._

They hadn't, and Mike was glad. She seemed to enjoy their company. He smirked. She laughed at his jokes. Even the lame ones. And Arek. Mikey shook his head, his grin growing wider. That kid was _wild._ And funny. He had a quick mouth on him, and the added advantage being small and having a _bear_ for a mother. Mikey'd enjoyed watching him get under Raph's shell with taunting little digs. A couple of times he'd seen Mikell's grin flash, and knew she was allowing Arek to push his brother's buttons.

"Hey, Mikell." He kept his voice quiet, so he wouldn't startle her. She hated being surprised. The woman shot up from the bed where she'd been half-sitting against the pillows with a sketchpad on her lap, spilling pencils everywhere and whacking her head on the windowsill.

"_Mikey!_"

Uh-oh. That was not a good tone. He put on his best puppy-eyes and tried her with a contrite smile.

"Sorry. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she grouched, rubbing her head with one hand and trying to scoop up the stray pencils with the other. "I just can't get used to you guys popping in the way you do. Didn't you ever hear of _knocking_?"

Mike grinned. "Sorry. It's kinda a ninja thing, you know? So, what're you working on? Is it a picture of me?"

She laughed. "Well, all of you, sure," she said, turning the pad to show him.

"Wow. How come we're so short?"

"It's an illustration for my friend Lauren's story. You guys were little."

"Aww, look how cute I was," he said, grinning.

"Funny, Mike."

He climbed up on the bed, sitting beside her on his knees.

"So… whatcha doin?"

"I'm _drawing._ At least I was." She sighed, closing the pad. "Did you _want_ something, Michelangelo?"

"Well, Leo's… I dunno, he's downstairs readin' I think. And Raph an' Donny are workin' on the Battleshell, and Jessi an' Arek are sleepin'…"

"It _is _ten-thirty at night, Mike. They have to sleep."

"I know. But Mikell, I'm bored. Wanna watch a movie with me?"

"You know I don't like horror movies, Mike."

"Well, we can watch somethin' else. How about _Over The Hedge_?"

"You like kids' movies?"

"Well, sometimes. Like when my friend is sad and needs to cheer up by watchin' her favorite movie with her favorite turtle!" he said with a grin. He was rewarded with a giggle.

"I don't know about you, Michelangelo."

"But you'll watch the movie with me, right?"

"Sure."

"Cool! I like Hammy."

"Well, if he had a shell and blue eyes, he'd be a mini version of you," she teased.

Mike laid a hand over his plastron. "I'm wounded. Cut to the quick," he said, falling back on the bed theatrically.

Mary laughed. "You goof ball. Put the movie on."

"If I can… I'm bleeding out… Everything is going dark…" He dragged himself off the bed, stretching with his fingertips toward the dvd player.

"Fruitloop," came the callous comment from behind him.

"Aww, you love me and you know it," he shot back with a grin.

He popped the disc in and made himself comfortable on the bed behind the author. She laid down, propping herself up on the pillow, but after a few minutes, sat up again, stretching her arm out and rolling her shoulder with a grimace.

"Still sore, huh?" he asked sympathetically.

"Yeah."

The raccoon on the screen banged the vending machine, desperate to get his bag of chips. Tentatively, Mike reached out, touching the woman's shoulder. She twitched, turning to look at him.

"Why don't you let me rub that for you?" he asked.

"No, Mike, thanks," she said, shifting.

Mikey took his hand back, a little hurt, but didn't say anything. After a few minutes, Mikell shifted to lean back against the wall again, not even noticing that she was resting right next to Mike. With a mischievous grin, he moved stealthily, reaching to tickle her side. When his fingers were about to brush her shirt, she shifted slightly away.

"Don't even _think_ about it, Michelangelo."

"Aww, man." He pouted. "How'd you know?"

"I grew up with brothers, remember?" she turned to grin at him.

Mike grinned back and shifted over so she could lean back against him. She hesitated a moment before relaxing against him, his arm curled comfortably around her waist.

"What will Austin say?" she teased.

"Aww, she knows we're just friends. Besides, maybe I wanna make her jealous," he added.

Mikell snorted. "Oh, sure," she said. "Mike if you want to make her jealous, you'll have to try doing it with someone younger and thinner than I am."

"Why do you do that, Mary?"

"Do what?"

"Talk about yourself like that. You're not _that_ old."

The woman snorted again. "I'm almost forty, Mike."

"So?"

"And I'm fifty pounds overweight."

"You don't look fat to me."

"Yeah, well you have a _shell_. You can hide your extra weight better than I can." She giggled at the wounded look he gave her. "Oh, come on, I'm teasing."

"I know," he said with a smirk. "But you fall for my puppy-eyes faster than Leo."

She twisted, punching him lightly on the arm. "Don't be such a goof."

"Seriously, it's not like you've got a humpback or anything," he said.

"Gee, thanks, Mike," she said sardonically.

"Mikell, I'm being serious here. You're so hard on yourself."

"Mikey, it's hard to feel pretty when your husband thinks of you as a live-in maid and babysitter," she answered. Mike felt something warm splash on his hand. He tightened his arm around her. She stiffened for an instant before relaxing against him. "Did you know that Phoenix is really close to Las Vegas?" she asked softly.

"Umm, no."

"His ex lives in Arizona."

"Oh." Understanding dawned. "Mikell, he's not… I mean, Ken's not the kinda guy who'd…"

"I know. But when he goes off alone like that… I can't help but wonder, Mike. He's due home tomorrow morning."

"You're scared he won't come home, huh?"

"No." Her tone lacked conviction.

"Mikell…"

"He's not going to leave me, Mike. At least… not physically," she said sadly. Tears splashed like warm rain on his hand, trickling down his fingers, tickling his thumb.

"Mikell, he'd be an idiot to leave. He's got a good thing here. You love him more than anything and you put up with a lot. I've seen it," he said softly. "You don't complain when he's gone all the time and you cook for him and bring him breakfast every morning…"

"I can't keep the house up the way he wants," she answered. "And I can't fix whatever's wrong with Arek…"

"Mikell, there's _nothing_ wrong with Arek," said Mikey firmly. "He's a _great_ kid. You want me to go down to the school and ninja-kick that stupid woman for you?"

"I don't think assaulting the school staff would help, Mike," said Mary with a wavering laugh.

Michelangelo ignored her. "Mary, Ken's a great guy, but maybe you've got him a little spoiled, you know?"

"Maybe," she admitted.

"Maybe it's time you reminded him that you're his _partner_," said Mike softly. "Maybe it's time you talked to him about how you've been feeling. He's not neglecting you on _purpose._ How's he supposed to know if you don't tell him how you're feeling?"

"I… I guess."

Michelangelo shifted on the bed, cradling the woman more comfortably against his side.

"I _know_ so," he told her confidently. "If _I _was married to you, I'd never go off to Vegas without you."

"Aww, you're sweet, Mikey."

"Yeah, I know."

He pounced, springing the trap he'd laid so carefully, bringing his other arm over to pin her while he tickled her ribs mercilessly. Mikell shrieked. She writhed, trying to get away from him, but Mikey had her trapped.

"M… M... Michel-_angelo_!" she yelled between giggles. "Cut it out!"

"Not 'til you say it!" he crowed.

"Say what?!" she was glaring at him now, a dangerous glint in her eye. Or it might've been tears of laughter. Mike wasn't quite sure.

"That _I'm_ you're favorite turtle!"

She wriggled, breaking his grasp with a twist and allowing her weight to drag her away from him, over the side of the bed. Mike leaned down, reaching for her, but she held up her hand.

"No more," she said firmly.

"Aww, man," he sat up, holding out his hand to help her up. "You're no fun, Author."

She grasped his wrist, using her stronger leg to maneuver to her feet. Without warning, she pounced, shoving him back on the bed and leaning across his plastron, pinning him down. He could've thrown her off, if he could catch his breath long enough to get any leverage. Mikell's fingers found the sensitive skin of the bridge between his carapace and plastron and she returned the tickles, grinning the entire time.

"Ok! Ok, I give!" he cried between gasping for breath.

"Who's your favorite author?" she asked, laughing.

Mikey shook his head, squealing when she reached for his armpit. "Nooo!" he cried. "Not that… not… hahahahaha! Ok, ok! You are! You win!"

She sat up, brushing her hair back out of her face with a triumphant grin.

"What on earth are you two _doing?_"

Mikey sat up, his face a picture of innocence. Mikell turned, blushing. Leonardo stood in the doorway, staring at them both as if they'd lost their minds.

"We were battling for dominance in the great tickle wars," said Mikell with a cheeky grin. "I think we're going to have to call it a draw this time and sign a peace treaty over a couple of slices of deep-dish. What do you say, Mike?"

Mikey grinned a bit sheepishly at his older brother. "Sounds good to me," he responded.

Leonardo's eyeridges rose. He shook his head. "Great. Just great. You've corrupted her, Mike. Now she's acting just as crazy as _you._"

"Oh, those are fighting words, Leonardo," said the author, standing up and straightening her rumpled shirt. "What do you say, Mike? Allies?"

"You got it," he said.

Before Leonardo knew what hit him, his younger brother was sitting on his chest while Mikell pinned his legs.

"Mikey! Cut it out! Get off!" Leo squirmed, but Mike had learned some pretty good wrestling holds from Raphael.

"What should we make him do?" asked Mikell. Mike turned to grin at his cohort. "I say he's gotta come watch the movie with us," he replied.

Leonardo groaned. "Are you watching some awful mindless gore-fest up here?" he asked.

"No, we're watching a modern classic, _Over The Hedge_," replied Mikell with great dignity.

Leo groaned again, but nodded. "All right. Get off me, you two."

"Victory!" crowed Mike.

Mary laughed, standing up and brushing herself off.

Mikey slid an arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. She grinned at him, looking a little more relaxed than he'd seen her in a while.

"See, I _told_ you you're not an old fart. Not like Leo, here. You still know how to have fun."

"Hey!" protested his brother.

Mary laughed. "Hanging out with you is enough to make anyone feel young, Mike," she responded.

She turned to the television to re-start the movie. Behind her, the brothers exchanged glances and Leo gave Mikey a grin.

_Oh yeah,_ thought Mike with a satisfied smirk. _Operation cheer up the Author is a complete and total success. I love it when a plan comes together._


	10. Chapter 10 The End

**A/N: Guys... Thank you, for everything. For reviewing, for the support, for just being out there. **

**This is the end... of this little journey, but not of my marriage. **

**The thing with books... with the little stories we write is... the story goes on long after the book closes. Life goes on, rolling forward. Books, like fictional characters, are limited. They can give us a glimpse, a window, into life, but outside the window, Life is so much bigger, so much brighter and more beautiful, that we can't help but embrace it. To close oneself up in fiction for too long is to close the window, trapping ourselves behind sterile glass, cutting ourselves off from all the sights, smells and feelings life has to offer. Fan fiction in general, and this story in particular, has been my safe place during a rough patch... but now it's time for me to get up from the window and go outside, to engage in Real Life with an renewed vigor and passion. **

**That does not mean I will leave the site, not at all, or that I will stop writing... I am a writer, after all. but this story, this little fiction, has served its purpose, and now, it has come to its end. **

**Once again, thank you to those who've read, who've left their comments, who've engaged with me in a small way through this process. Thank you. And to my friends who have walked beside me throughout it all, coming into the Valley itself with me, listening to my rants and rambling, who've cried with me and gotten angry on my behalf, who've given me advice, hugs both real and virtual, and cyber-drinks and cookies, I am forever in your debt.**

**To everyone, I wish you the best this holiday season and if you haven't already, I hope one day you find your Hero. When you do, remember, the dragons are real. They can, and will, hurt you. But... if you believe in your Hero, you stand firm and you fight. And if you're lucky, you win and get... not a happy ending, but another chance at continuing the story.**

**Take care.  
Rejoicing in the day,**

**-Mary**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 10 -The End-  
~~~_

Leonardo found the woman sitting on the rusted bench in the patch of trees behind her home. Birds were chirping their tiny hearts out, though the day had taken on the first chill of winter. Leo shivered, drawing the parka closer around his shoulders.

_Shell, I'm glad Ken lost all that weight,_ he thought. _His old stuff's big enough to fit us and still almost new. It's not easy to find coats to fit over our shells._

He didn't bother trying to hide his approach and even deliberately stepped into the dry piles of leaves to rustle them as he came closer, but she didn't even acknowledge his presence until he sank down rather gingerly on the bench seat beside her. He could feel the chill of the metal through the thick sweat-pants covering his legs and shivered. She'd been out here over two hours already.

_She must be freezing,_ he thought.

Mary glanced at him and he saw the ghost of a smile before her eyes went back to the distance she'd been staring into. After a moment, she shifted over on the bench and leaned against his side. Leo's arm came automatically around her shoulders. She _was_ cold. She pressed against his side and only then did she begin to shiver, to tremble as if she were shattering, cracking apart. Her arms came around him, clinging as if she'd never let go and Leonardo heard a muffled sob. He tightened his arm around her, but said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

Leo was shivering slightly with the cold before the woman sat up. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her face before she would look at him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"It's ok."

"You… the jacket… it… it still smells like him." She spoke so softly Leo just caught the words.

"I'm sorry," he said in sudden understanding. "I shouldn't have worn it…"

"Leonardo, _no_," she said firmly, meeting his eyes for the first time. "It's cold. I wanted you guys to have that stuff. I'm glad you can use it. Besides…" A faint flush crept up her cheeks. "I… really needed that hug."

Leo's hand came up without his thinking, smoothing the hair away from her face.

"Hey, any time."

She reached up, grasping his wrist, and turned her face so that her cheek rested against his palm. He was startled at how cold her skin was against his hand.

"You guys have been such good friends to me," she said softly. "Thank you."

Finally she let him go and Leo took his hand back, resisting the urge to wipe the tears off on his pant leg.

"So… what are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean?" The look she gave him was hollow, haunted. Leonardo waited. Mikell sighed. "I'm going to get back up and keep fighting," she whispered.

Leonardo nodded. "I'm not surprised."

"Oh?" The faintest spark of the old humor showed in her eyes for an instant before it was swallowed up.

"You've never been a quitter," he said softly. "And besides, you still believe in heroes, right? I mean… I'm here." He smiled. "Mary… you're going to get the happy ending."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't look away. She drew a shuddering breath. "I… I don't know if I believe in happy endings, Leo."

The turtle stared. "But… I thought… I mean, you guys were talking last night and…"

She shook her head. "Leo, it's ok."

"How is it ok?"

_What about Jessi and Arek? What about fifteen years? What about your family, your dreams? Everything you've worked for so long to build up, everything you love? Oh, Mikell, I know he dropped a bomb on you yesterday, but I hope you're not about to do something you'll regret for the rest of your life._

"It's ok because I don't believe in _endings_, Leo. I… I believe stories go on, even after the book closes. I believe that endings are only the beginning. I believe that where there is life, there is hope. And…" she looked away again, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Leo, maybe I'm crazy, but… I believe in _him_. I believe in my husband. I think we can make this work."

Leonardo nodded slowly, understanding and relief flooding him. "So… you're not going anywhere, huh?"

"Nope."

"And Ken?"

She drew another shuddering breath. "He came home. He says he's willing to try. He doesn't want to lose us, either."

"How about you? Are you going to be able to forgive him?"

She hesitated, the pain crossing her features once more. "It's… going to take a while," she said.

_Well, I guess I understand that. It took a while for me and Raph to be ok after that fight... _"Mary?"

"Yeah?"

"It's worth it."

She nodded. "Yeah, Leo. When you get a Hero, he's worth hanging on to." She leaned back, wrapping an arm around his carapace and hugged him again. For once, he didn't blush, but gave her a direct look. The woman's breath caught and the red crept up _her_ cheeks for a change.

Leonardo smirked. "You know what?"

"What?" her voice was slightly breathless.

"You're cute when you're blushing."


End file.
